Friday, February 15, 2013

a VERY unwanted visitor

How do you say, "eating disorder" in Spanish?

I don't think they really get it here.  Mental illness is not on the docket.  It's not spoken of.

Oh, you can go into Google Translate and find the direct translation, 'trastornos de la alimentación', but it doesn't mean they're going to 'get' it.

Why would anyone who's starving from lack of money have a 1st World problem so silly as to cry about not being perfect?

I've been stress/depression/anxiety eating.  Corn chips.  Chocolate.  Pasta.  Gads of rice with butter and bacon bits.  All things I would normally eat sparingly as a treat, I've been gorging on, with the back of my mind begging to stop the madness.

When I eat like this, it's like I'm on autopilot and my hand won't stop going to my mouth.  I haven't even swallowed the last bite and I'm stuffing more in my yak with fervor.

I barely taste the food, other than 'salty', or 'sweet'.

Well, the other day, I went to put on a pair of my cozy pants, and dammit they were uncomfortable.  That evening, I was almost in tears, because it was confirmed that I had put on weight.

Papi knows better than to be honest with me if I have put on weight, "I don't notice anything.  You still look good to me," is his usual response.  Sweet of him, but I can't trust those words, just like I can't trust anyone else who tells me I'm thin.

I don't use the mirror to tell me, because no matter what size I am, that reflective demon always tells me I look bad.

But my pants?  Yup.  Direct indication.

I had troubles sleeping because I was obsessing about the fact that I can't stop eating and I'm putting on weight.

Then probably the worst thing possible could have happened yesterday morning.

Let me just set this up by telling you that the first week we were here, Our Translater told me what a beautiful body I had and that she really likes it.

It was a very sweet compliment.  It gave me confidence and was nice to hear, even though it was hard to believe.

Well, yesterday morning she said, "You look like you have more fat."  When my face turned into something akin to the devil, she added, "It looks good."

Good?!?!?!  Really?!?!?  This is my own personal hell!!!!

Oh, but it definitely was worse when the Housemaid chimed in, "You were much more fat in November when you were here."

Good fucking g*d people!!!!!  Have you memorized my every curve?!?!?!

Can I tell you what that has done to me?

I immediately started obsessing about limiting my food, putting on clothes that would hide my body and last night it was very difficult to get to sleep without feeling like I would go into a crying fit.

I kept venting to Papi about it and his response?  "You're obsessing about this!!"

My response to my sweet esposo who worked with mental illness as his career in Vancouver?  "You do know what an eating disorder is, right?"

Pure obsession.  100% demented thinking about nothing but food and my body.

Our Translator and the Housemaid have thrown me into a tailspin.

This is not good.  The whole day all I did was think about what I would eat next that would help me lose weight.

All I did was think about how much I would exercise to fight off the Anorexia Monster.

Going to the bathroom was torture, because I had to see the horrible image in the mirror that seemed even more distressing than it was the day before.

It's hell, and all because I got so over-stressed that I ate non-stop to deal with my emotions.

But the most horrendous part of this experience, is that now I KNOW people actually pay attention to my figure.

This will have me paranoid every second of every day as to what they're thinking about me.

It's ridiculous, because I shouldn't care, but an eating disorder is an eating disorder.

A fucking disorder of thinking.  I'm not in control of my mind.

I CAN be in control of what I put in my mouth, and yesterday I didn't harm myself, but ate as close to my food plan as possible, only a little more limiting.

How do you explain an eating disorder to people who don't really have this absurd dilemma of mind fuckery?

My only mission today is to continue to eat so as to not harm my body, and get some exercise.  Now there are no more strange men in our space today, because everything is done.

Yoga, fruit, vegetables, water, and loving, gentle talk to myself with as few tears as possible.

i see myself at a healthy weight and i achieve it


  1. I fully understand what you mean, but I have a question and I am just asking but what does it matter what people think? I know its always how we take it as a perspective on any situation, however, I cant control what people think, not with my body not with my mind, not with my actions......only they control themselves and only you control you as only i control me. So, if that is the case, how can they say anything to affect you?how can some one say anything to me that would affect me? I know how you take it, i know its easy to go there with your thoughts......but they are still your thoughts not theirs....i do know its all how your going to look at it no matter what.......i know it's a real disorder.......but it's your disorder, no one else can make it better or worse, not one person one this planet, only you, truly self image is the hardest thing people deal with, but the name is still "SELF IMAGE" not others image about you. Know this, you are beautiful as is, as you are now, do not change anything ever to satisfy someone else, they are not worthy of your efforts and time. I know this is the first time I have commented on your blog but self image is something that is important to me, the way I see it, unless someone has proven themselves worthy by being my equal or better in the subject we are talking about then they have nothing to say and nothing that ever comes out of their mouth will be respect or even heard by I will leave you with this.......who has proven themselves to you?

  2. thank you for chiming in stathi. it's such a brutal disorder and i can't even tell you how hard it is to try to stop my brain.

    loop after loop after loop of what i see in the mirror.

    it's not love.

    i obviously don't have enough love for myself yet. you'd think at my age i would have learned? it was ingrained into me to be perfect from a young age. i could never be perfect, so i'm never going to be that person that is 'good enough'.

    i don't know how to stop it, but i'm trying. i'm really trying.


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